


Rosenscott & Luistern

by krycekasks



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Gen, Time Travelling Luis, eventual background stucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 17:33:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8926081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krycekasks/pseuds/krycekasks
Summary: "Well." Scott does not elaborate, just rests his arms on the bars of the jail cell he's found himself in and leans his forehead on the cold metal. His eyes close...."So, like, what are you in for, brah?"





	1. Jailbreak

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littleblackfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Cinder and Smoke](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9201059) by [littleblackfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/pseuds/littleblackfox). 



> This is essentially what I imagine happens with Scott and Luis running around the Wild West.
> 
> This is for the amazing littleblackfox whose wonderful stories were my introduction to Luis in the Stucky-verse, who appreciates this great unsung character of the MCU (he's just so FUN), and laughs at my attempts to capture this guys voice in writing - thank you! 
> 
> The title comes from the great buddy movie Tom Stoppard's "Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead".
> 
> Absolutely no research went into this, so .... forgive me? Luis te quiero!

"Well." Scott does not elaborate, just rests his arms on the bars of the jail cell he's found himself in and leans his forehead on the cold metal. His eyes close....

"So, like, what are you in for, brah?"

Scott jolts awake and accidentally smacks his head on the cell bars. He squeezes his eyes shut and waits for the sting to go away. _What did that fella say?_

"Me? I was just mindin' my own business, trying to get a drink for this lady, and she was fine, you know? Like super wicked fine with the red hair and the beautiful dress and this look on her face, right? Like she can take one look at you and know all your secrets. And she asks me to get her a whisky, so I go up to the bartender and ask if he's got some single malt, 'cause you know blended gives me a headache, but the dude says nothin' man, just silence. Then slams this bottle of brown stuff right in front of me with a couple a tumblers, and I'm like all right all right all right, a whole bottle of unlabelled hooch, I mean how bad can it be right? So I grab the stuff and turn back to the crazy stupid fine redhead waitin’ for me but she's not there! Just this dude with a cowboy hat and he's packin' somethin' right there on his hip. He looks me right in the eyes and says, 'Are you the one they call Lewis?' And I was like who? but then I remembered that my name sounds kinda funny when the locals say it. But then it hit me! I had told that lady that I was lookin' for somethin' to do, you know? Like for money and food and shit. So I'm thinkin' she got this cowboy dude to come over and give me a job wranglin' sheep or whatever. So you know what I said?"

Scott stared. _What??_ "What?" He was so confused.

"I said 'yes'." Lewis looks really proud and Scott can't for the life of him figure out the how's or the why's. He’s saved from further contemplation as Lewis continues.

"Then the asshole just slaps these handcuffs on and says, 'I know what you did, son, you're not from around here are you?' like he's Clint Fuckin' Eastwood. And I think he means like when I first showed up I kinda burnt down this barn or something or maybe he means that girl, so pretty brah! How could I resist but I guess her daddy's a preacher? But that's like another story for another time, know what I'm sayin'?"

"Not really." Scotts looks at the man in the cell across from him in confusion. _What? Just....what?_ "I don't think I understood you right, friend." Scott was trying to place the accent, "Are you from Texarkana?"

"No man! That's what I'm trying to say!" This guy emphasizes seemingly every word with his hands and Scott is, well, he can't look away, that's for sure. The guy looks at him like he's waiting for something, but just as Scott is about to gesture for him to continue, he declares with arms aloft "I'm from L.A.!"

Clearly this is supposed to mean something to Scott, "Louisiana?"

Lewis' face drops and he's about to continue when the door to the sheriff's office slams open and they both startle.

The sheriff comes out followed by his deputy who's carrying two bowls of what looks like mush. Scott's mouth starts watering despite the congealed look of the food.

The sheriff settles his hat and ambles toward the exit at the other end of the cells. Without looking at either of his prisoners he drawls, "Well boys, here's your grub. We'll deal with you in the mornin'." The long-suffering deputy hands them each their dinner.

Lewis takes his and whines, "Ah nah man, it ain't even late! How long we gonna be in here? I got a date with a pretty lady tonight. You hear me, right officer? Yeahhhh."

The deputy frowns, "Quit your gripin' son or I'll shut that trap of yours for you." He turns and leaves Lewis frowning into his bowl.

Scott catches his eye and gives him a half-hearted grin. Lewis smiles and shrugs, holds up his bowl to Scott in salute, "Cheers brah, better than nothin' right?"

They sit on their respective benches and eat their porridge. "This ain't half bad." Scott nods at his spoon appreciatively. Lewis launches into a story about food he's had in other jails. Scott doesn't know what Mack and Cheeze is but anything with elbows in it sounds horrible. When he's done he tosses the bowl on the floor and goes to get comfy on the bare wooden bench in the corner of his cell. He watches his companion with interest. _What's he up to now?_

Lewis carefully picks up the bench in his cell and moves it crosswise in front of the cell door. All the while he is talking non-stop about his little cousin and some sort of science project? He mentions watching something called 'youtube' and the 'myth busters'.

"Is that one of those travelling road shows?" Scott asks. He'd come across a travelling troupe of actors. You'd think they'd be easy to hold up. Yeah, not so much. Also, less on the possessing of coin and more on the abundance of dresses and bonnets. And acting must be quite a strength builder because even the little one could chase him down with what seemed like a sword made out of tumbleweed. Hence his current predicament.

Lewis stops to consider something. The moment of silence is strange and Scott realizes that he doesn't like it, prefers when the silence is filled, and if it isn't someone else's yammering then he'll inevitably start jabbering himself. Maybe that's how he ends up with an abundance of troubles. Huh. He's about to say as much when Lewis starts up again. "Yeah, yeah something like that. Oh sweet! Pass me that broom dude! Keep stretchin' man you can do this. You do yoga man? That was some serious Cirque du Soleil shit!"

Scott untwists himself holding the broom up, victorious! He was always good at contortion, making himself even smaller than his already small self, better at that than highway robbery at least. Maybe he was in the wrong business. _Why am I holding this broom?_ He passes it across the cells to Lewis who proceeds to prop it half ways on the bench with one end under the low bars on his cell door. All the while he's talking about his grandma chasing him out of the kitchen with a broken off hawk-key stick or some such thing. He starts pushing down on the far end of the broom. Scott is fascinated. "I don't know what you're doing but I get the feeling you've done it before."

"I'm breaking us outta here brah. This ain't my first rodeo, know what I mean?" The cell door slowly starts to lift out of the hinges and Lewis quickly reaches out to ease it gently to rest on the bench. "Fuuuuuuuuck that's heavy.” He heads over to the keys on the wall by the door to the sheriff's office rubbing his shoulder. “Think that redhead will give me a massage?" 

"If it's the redhead I think you're referrin' to, then good luck to you friend. Her name's Nat. I saw her shoot a man once just for callin' her sweetheart without askin' first. Guess she wasn't feelin' so sweet. Mind you, she shot him in the foot, so she ain't that hard."

Lewis pauses his testing of the cell keys and looks up at the ceiling, a goofy smile on his face and hand over his heart, "Tough and beautiful? I'm in love, man."

"Again, good luck. Let's just get out of here then you can woo whoever you want." Scott tries to get him to focus on the task at hand.

Once free they gather their belongings which have been left in a haphazard pile by the back door. As they grab their gear the door to the front starts to slowly creak open. They both freeze and stare open mouthed towards the entrance. A shaggy black dog ambles in and doesn't give them the time of day as it finds its dinner bowl and gets down to business.

Scott and Lewis look at each other and burst into giggles. "Shhhhhhhh" Scott tries to silence them both but can't stop his own snickering. He pulls the poncho he's had since he was just a youngin' over his head and glares at Lewis when the other man bursts into a new fit of giggles. "What? It's warm!"

Lewis just shakes his head and stifles his laughter. "What kind of jail is this man? You won't find no cute mutt in San Quentin, although there was that one guard who used to bake cookies. Cookies man! You ever seen a guy the size of the Hulk with a tattoo of the devil across his chest eat a macaroon like it was the goddam holy grail of snacks? Crazy. Prevented a few riots though."

"I haven't the faintest. Hey, look!" They’re crouched behind the back door of the jail, peering cautiously around looking for trouble. Scott points toward the shadow cast by the late afternoon sun behind the Saloon next door. "Are those .... horses?"

Lewis sticks his head above Scotts and squints "Dude, I don't see or hear shit except the noise from the party in the bar across the ..." Lewis stops and smiles, "My lady!"

Scott squints harder. Yep, now he sees her, a flash of red, an elegantly clad arm holding the reigns of two horses. Nat, looking as though standing around the back of the saloon one hand on her hip the other absently running through the mane of the little brown horse beside her was the most natural thing in the world. As they get closer Scott notices that the hand on her hip is loosely holding a small pearl handled pistol. Suddenly his foot aches.

Scott and Lewis shuffle as best they can towards the back of the saloon and freedom, pausing at corners and ducking behind feeding troughs to avoid detection. Lewis vaults over the short fence between buildings and does a shoulder roll coming up to stand right in front of Nat and taking off his hat in one smooth motion. Scott just tries not to get his poncho caught on the fence post as he scrambles over.

"Girl, you are looking beautiful to-night! I gotta split on account of the fuzz but I'll be back for you, I swear on my papi’s greencard."

Nat just gives him a sly smile,"That's what they all say, sugar, what makes you so different, huh?" Her eyes are twinkling as she hands a set of reins over to Lewis who is backing away slowly, hand over heart.

"Ow, that hurts, straight for the corazon." Lewis is smiling like an idiot.

Scott just shakes his head, "You just can't help yourself, can ya Nat? There's a trail of broken hearts across this great land from New York to Hell on Wheels."

Nat chuckles but denies nothing. She hands him the other set of reins, "Evenin' Scott. Sorry I couldn't find you a bigger one." The horse is a pretty little golden mare, hardly above a pony.

"She's pretty, and a might better than tryin' to get away on foot. Thanks Nat."

"You be careful boys. I better not see you 'round these parts for a good long while." She gives a wink to Scott and blows a kiss to Lewis who gives a broken little whine as she melts back into the shadows.

They lead the horses a bit aways from the saloon, behind a little storehouse that they quickly pillage for a few supplies. Scott looks at his companion, unsure what should happen next, "Lewis..."

"It's Luis, Lou-eeeese dude, now that we're like partners in crime you should say my name right, ya know?"

"Luis", that was easy enough, thought Scott, "Are you from France?"

Luis looked affronted. Huh.

"Dude, as my best friend, come on! I'm American man! L.A. Ya know? California?"

Ohhhhhhhhh California, Scott had heard of that place. "Right, of course, obviously. Sorry." Scott gives Luis a sheepish grin and he gets a beaming one right back, along with a slap on his shoulder. _Best friend...I could get used to that_ Scott warmed at the thought. "I'm Scott, by the way, but you can call me Dood or man, I don't mind." They get on their new rides, as Luis calls them, though it takes his companion more than a few tries to get on with what he can only assume are complimentary mutterings in the horse’s ear. "You need some help there pardner?"

"Nah nah, it's all good, me and Red here are just working on our rapport, ya know." Soon they’re off.

"So, Luis, tell me about this barn you accidentally burnt down."

"Holy shit brah! It was nuts, I was on this job and it was super legit, like the secret underground lab of this crazy science dude, real Bond shit, well more like Doctor Who when I really think about it, know what I'm sayin'?"

Scott didn't but that was OK. He lets Luis tell his story, better out than in his mama had always said, and they ride off towards the setting sun.


	2. Crawlin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A month after Jailbreak...

It had only been one day since Red, Luis' favourite (and first horse he'd ever seen, much less ridden, Scott was sure of it) chestnut mare had lost one of her shoes in a quick getaway from their latest mark: a couple of fellow thieves who the boys had stumbled upon trying to steal the bell out of a church tower. They had jumped the guys, taking their guns and coin, as well as the bell, all the while Luis admonishing them, "A church homes, for reals? I come from a long line of pick pockets, fuckin' Prince of the L.A. Thieves Guild, know what I'm sayin'? You obviously don't since anyone with any HONOUR knows that rules number 3…” Luis held up the middle finger of his right hand, “...through 8...” Up went the middle finger of his other hand, emphasizing the number of the rules. _What rules? What is happening??_ pondered Scott and not for the first time. Luis continues, “...have to do with not takin’ nothin' from no house of no lord!" Scott had no idea what his friend was doing, but he rolled with it as always since it seemed to be effectively pissing off the men they were stealing from. The one in the black hat looked fit to be tied, and the other littler twitchy one just looked kind of confused and mad. Scott could not hold back a guffaw. This seemed to make them more mad so Luis and Scott backed up quickly to their horses, guns raised, packed their new wares and high tailed it out of there.

They dropped the bell off back at the church from whence it came with a note that started with 'Dear Padre...' and ended with 'Sincerely, Two Sinners... p.s. not the ones that stole the bell'.

That had been yesterday. Today, Luis finds himself straining against his horse's reins, trying to get her to follow him. "Come on baby, just a few more steps and papi will get you some pretty new shoes ok? Don't look at me like that, I know it's more than a few steps, don't need to put me down for a technicality."

Scott just chuckles , "I think that's the blacksmith over there. Why don't we just set these ladies up right here, get 'em some food and then go for the shoe when Red decides to be more cooperative." He looks pointedly at the stubborn horse who just as stubbornly ignores him. They secure the horses and Luis starts brushing them down while Scott goes off in search of some apples or oats they can "borrow".

It doesn't take too long for Scott to find an unattended shed that conveniently has a half full bag of oats and other animal feed. He slips in and out only feeling partially guilty for taking something that ain't rightfully his. However, since the shed is attached to the jail house he doesn't feel too bad for too long. He'd be eating these very oats if they caught him, so, well.

As he rounds the corner of the blacksmiths on his way back to Luis and the horses he hears his friends unmistakable voice. "I said they're not for sale brah." Luis sounds annoyed, which was so unlike him it stops Scott in his tracks. He peers around the corner and sees the two guys they had just held up the day before. Luis obviously hasn't noticed as he hasn't even looked up from cleaning out one of Red's hooves. 

"And I said I wasn't askin'. You owe us, friend." The taller one with the black hat was talking while Scott could see the little ones hand hover over the pistol on his hip. _Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit_ Scott panics internally and pats helplessly at his hips. His pockets only hold a few coins, some flint and a bit of tobacco he'd stolen from the two men currently threatening his unawares friend. His guns are with the rest of his gear currently lying on the ground beside his horse, Honey. His eyes scan the buildings around them. The street is a graveyard, not a soul in sight. Then he sees it, a red painted box outside the general store not 20 feet away, if he could just get a bit closer....

"Hardy har har coz, you some kind of comedian? 'Cause I don't owe no one nothin' outside of a phone call to my mama, and you sure as shit don't sound like my amigo. So why don't you..." 

A shot cracks the air and Scott whips his head around just in time to see the little twitchy guy has shot Luis in the leg. He grimaces and suppresses the urge to run in guns blazing sans any actual guns. He turns back to the red box and pries off the lid. Inside are a bunch of firecrackers intended for the town's anniversary celebration at who-the-fuck-knows o'clock 'cause right now they have a more important purpose. Scott sets a few up, unravelling one of the fuses. He looks over to see Luis trying to move pulling himself by his elbows but can't seem to get any leverage. Scott concentrates on striking the flint from his pocket on a stone and once the fuse is lit he shuffles away in a crouch as quickly as he can.

The first firecracker goes off not a second later and when Scott sees the two men swing around and duck looking for the disturbance he flat out runs towards Luis. He grabs his friend by his armpits and drags him behind a nearby feeding trough, all the while Luis is cussing and threatening, "They better not hurt Red or Honey or they're in for a world of hurt, no what I'm sayin'? Is it the Fourth of July bro? What's with the ... ow ow ow ow ow!"

"Yeah yeah, maybe wait until they run outta bullets first. Quiet! My diversion just ran out." I guess the town can't afford too much of a party. Scott is about to give into his panic attack when out of nowhere, a shotgun blast rings out and time seems to come to a halt. Scott looks over at Luis who just mouths _What the fuck??_

A deep voice suddenly drawls "Unless you're not so fond of your other hand, you best be moving on. Now." 

Scott peers over the top of the feeding trough, eyes widening in surprise. He looks down at Luis and mouths _I think it's the blacksmith!_ Luis looks confused and mouths back _What?_ Scott tries again _The blacksmith shot that guys hand off!!!_ He tries to convey as much exclamation as he can while being silent but Luis still looks at him uncomprehendingly. Scott is about to try again, thinks better of it and gestures for Luis to see for himself. 

The man with the black hat who'd been reaching for his pistol thinks better of it, gives one last scathing look at the blacksmith who just gives him a slightly bored look back and gestures with the barrel of his shotgun to get moving. The man goes over to help his friend up and they take off, the blacksmith watching carefully until they are well out of sight.

Scott and Luis look away from the scene and at each other, eyes wide in shock. Scott can't help it, he starts to grin like a goof.

"That was the coolest thing I have ever seen brah!" Luis whispers and all Scott can do is nod furiously.

"Did you see that shot? Who can hit a man's hand from a 100 yards with a shotgun? Who?" Scott whispers back and they both start giggling until Luis grimaces in pain, the wound on his leg is bleeding profusely.

"Ah-hem."

Scott and Luis startle and look up from their position from behind the feeding trough. The dark figure of the blacksmith looms over them and Scott feels the urge to start apologizing but as he opens his mouth he's interrupted by the man who pretty much just saved their lives.

"Need some help with that?" The blacksmith gestures with his free hand to Luis' leg. His other hand is casually holding the shotgun, but Scott has no doubt that the guy would be ready to shoot it again at the slightest provocation.

"Yeah man that would be awesome, those fuckin' assholes fuckin' shot me in the leg! I wasn't even trying to steal anything! I think they was gonna do us in and take our horses, as if my Red wouldn't'a bucked that twitchy one off the second he touched her. Not that he could touch much now with you shooting his hand off." Luis starts giggling as Scott and the blacksmith pick him up and sling his arms over their shoulders. The blacksmith leads them inside his shop. "That was so fucking awesome man, you swept in there like a total badass. 'You best be movin' on' Epic man! Epic! Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick brah."

The blacksmith hurriedly grabs a bucket and sets it beside Luis just in time. "Your friend has lost a lot of blood, we had better get that bullet out of him." Scott looks between the grim look on the blacksmith's face, the blade that's already in his hand and the iron poker he is currently settling within the red hot coals of the forge. He sits down hard on the floor and reaches unseeing for the bucket _I'm gonna be sick._

The next hour passes in a blur for Scott. The blacksmith, Bucky, turns out not only to be proficient with a firearm but also with a knife. While Scott gets Luis blackout drunk, or at least enough to stop talking their saviour's ear off, Bucky talks them through what he's gotta do. Luis, to his credit, doesn't scream but swears profusely and talks directly to the bullet calling it a 'stubby little bastard'. He insists on holding it however once Bucky plucks it from his leg. He grips it in one hand and just about crushes Scott's arm in the other as Bucky puts a red hot poker to the wound to close it up and hopefully keep it from infection. By the end Scott is pretty proud that he didn't faint or throw up once. _Fine, twice, ugh shut up._

While Luis dozes, Bucky fixes them some eggs and coffee refusing Scotts attempts to trade him something for his kindness. "The world could do with a bit more kindness." Bucky says to him over his own cup of coffee. Scott smiles back and commits the words to memory. 

"Dude, that would be a wicked tattoo. Gonna write 'kindness' across my knuckles so it's the last thing the sucker who shot me sees before I punch his lights out."

Bucky and Scott chuckle as Luis struggles out of his doze. Bucky hands him a plate of eggs with an order to chow down.

"Don't need to be told twice jefe! I'm just kidding about punching anyone guys, even bullies need some love, ya know? Maybe those dudes would be respectable citizens instead of total assholes if they'd been hugged more." Luis grins around a mouthful of food.

"Just maybe wait until they put their pistols down before trying to hug any bullies, all right pardner?" Scott is more than half worried that that's exactly what Luis is planning to do.

They finish their food while Bucky replaces the missing horseshoe on Red, who for her part glares down at Bucky through her mane but generally dismisses him and raises her hoof without any further trouble. They thank him profusely and try to pay him but he won't accept anything and tries to shoo them away before those "hug-less jerks" as Luis calls them come back. Scott slips a small bag of coin into one of Bucky's coats hanging by the door, it ain't much but they owe him more than they could ever repay.

Between the three of them they manage to get Luis on his horse and soon they are on their way. When they're a couple hundred yards out Scott looks back, Bucky is still standing in front of his place with his gun in one hand resting against the fence post. Scott raises his hand in a little wave and is immediately embarrassed until he sees Bucky wave back. 

 ---------------------------- 

Scott eases Luis down to sit up against a large rock. He starts to gather some deadwood lying around their impromptu campsite, all the while Luis is telling one of his stories. "I see gettin' shot in the leg didn't affect your mouth any."

"Nah man, I just remembered something and I gotta tell it to you. There was this show, and it was awesome, like it was a western but set in space, and all the characters could swear in Chinese, it was brilliant coz, like from the mind of a genius." Luis grimaces and readjusts his leg. 

Scott takes off his poncho, folds it up and props Luis's shot leg on top of it, waving off any protest from his injured friend. As usual, he didn't really have much clue as to the particulars of Luis' story but he found that though the actual words were heavy on the detail, the point still came through in the end. He went over to Honey and ruffled through his saddle bag looking for the flint.

"Thanks man, I'll try not to bleed on it, you know me I'm a careful kinda dude. I once got punched in the nose wearing my cousins Kings jersey, bled all over the logo man, but I got that shit out with some soda water asap! Anyways, so this show man, it was great, the network totally screwed it up tho so it never got past like 13 episodes or something. You're not superstitious are you?" Luis stops talking and narrows his eyes at Scott, waiting.

Scott pauses in his attempts to light their campfire, "Me? Nah ... though this will be my thirteenth try lighting this damn fire." Scott strikes the flint against the rock and his face lights up when the bit of tumbleweed starts smoking, a little flame catching on. He holds it up victorious before settling it carefully under the pile of wood he'd managed to scrape together, "Lucky Thirteen!" He slaps Luis's proffered open palm in what he's learned is a form of mutual congratulation.

"Lucky Thirteen man! Cool cool cool and don't get me started on the laws of probability and chaos theory dude, you know how I love entropy in the universe man."

Scott shudders internally. He could live without that lecture again. Redirection was immediately called for, "Weren't you telling me something about some cowboys who cussed in Chinese?"

"More like space pirates, but good guys, you know? Well, they were alright, and I guess you could call them cowboys since this one time they had a whole herd of cows on their ship!"

Scott frowned, "They moved a whole herd on a boat?"

"I know right? Crazy fuckers. So, anyways this one time the captain and his number two right hand lady receive this package. See, they fought in a war together so were like war brothers, ya know? Well war siblings I guess, but you know what I mean, in a way they're like a package deal. So in the box is one of their old battle buddies, he'd mailed himself to the only suckers he knew who were smart enough to get him out of some deep shit he'd found himself in. They were also total softies man! And he used that against them, knew they'd forgive him for some seriously duplicitous shit he pulls. And of course they forgive him ya know! 'Cause they’re big damn heroes and take down the bad guys like it's no big, but they can't save their buddy from his own dumbassery and he gets like shot in the gut or something, like totally fatal but not so much that he can't have some last words you know? And they were some pretty epic words, something the cap used to tell 'em in the war, and today man, when you tricked those two fuckers and pulled me behind that pig feeder before they shot me in my fuckin' hat or worse, those words totally came rushing into my mind, like all unbidden and shit,” Luis pauses for dramatic effect. _Gets me every time. What? What did he say??_ When Luis continues he emphasizes each word carefully, “When you can't run, you crawl. And when you can't crawl, when you can't do that!"

"You find someone to carry you." The words just rolled off Scott's tongue and he doesn't think he's ever seen Luis look so happy.

"Yeah man, you got it! That is it! Sheer fuckin' poetry man, like who writes that shit? Genius. And that's you man, you carried me and I want you to know that I got your back too brother, whatever happens man, I got you."

Luis holds out his hand again and Scott clasps it, "Thanks brother." He doesn't know what else to say, he's never had anyone looking out for him like that before. For once Luis just quietly nods. 

Scott goes over to tend the horses and grab some grub from their packs. When he turns back to the fire he sees Luis is already asleep, snoring lightly. He settles down around the fire and chews absently on the bread they'd managed to hoard. No blood seems to be coming through the bandage on Luis' leg and Scott gives a sigh of relief. Bucky had done a good job getting the bullet out and cauterizing the wound as best he could. They would have to do something for the blacksmith, he was a good man and Scott was sure he and Luis could count him as a friend. Lord knows they could use all they could get out here.

 ---------------------------- 

Three days after chasing off the would-be horse thieves Bucky finds a sack of coffee, a chicken and a note by his back door. The chicken looks like it has been tied to the fence post with a braided up piece of tumbleweed but has since pecked its way loose and is now just walking around in a circle bobbing its head. 

Bucky picks up the note and starts to chuckle to himself. He doesn't quite understand what it says, which is how he knows it was the chatty one, Luis, who'd written it.

_Dear Big Damn Hero / Bad Muther Fucker,_

_Thank you for saving our asses and my leg. I was gonna name the bullet after you but Scott says that may be taken wrong, so I'm calling it Bruce instead._

_Here is some coffee we borrowed from the first class car of some fancy passenger train so you know it's the good shit._

_We also got you a chicken bro, and I know what you're thinking man! But it's for eggs. Her name is Paula and we bonded so you better take care of her._

_I think we have something like a life debt to you so whenever you need us bro we'll be there. Just like shine a bat signal in the sky or something, we'll get it._

_Your BFF's,  
Luis and Scott_


End file.
